


Broken Fragmented Souls

by Obscure_Shadow



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Dysfunctional Family, Episode Related, Gen, Season/Series 05, Unhealthy Relationships, Victim Blaming, not Dean Winchester friendly
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-02-04
Updated: 2019-02-04
Packaged: 2019-10-21 23:55:47
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,660
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17652128
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Obscure_Shadow/pseuds/Obscure_Shadow
Summary: Sam thought that he could hold under the weight that Dean seems determined to throw onto him. He thought he could just keep a stiff upper lip and take it all. But wounds tend to fester when left alone and it's been long enough. It's time for some harsh truths, and it's finally come time for Sam to walk away.





	Broken Fragmented Souls

For all the crap he gets when he’s the drunk one being wrestled into the room, he thinks Dean could give him a run for his money. While everyone seems to think that because Sam has long limbs that it makes him somehow more unruly to deal with, Sam just thinks it’s only because none of them have had the questionable pleasure of trying to contain his brother when Dean is not one hundred percent going along with the program.

“Come on, easy does it.” Sam croons as he guides Dean towards the bed closest to the door. Dean smacks his hands off of him with an angry sounding hiss before he almost upends himself and Sam has to catch him again.

“Let go” Dean growls as he struggles against Sam and Sam just drags him over to the mattress.

“If you feel like eating carpet, just let me know man, I’ll gladly watch you make a fool of yourself. I might even record it, I’m just warning you now.”

“Stop…Let…go…dammit!” Dean ends with a small amount of flailing as Sam manages to get him to his destination and start reaching for his foot. It takes a bit of finagling to avoid being kicked by Dean’s legs as he moves to make quick work of Dean’s boots. He only gets kicked twice for his troubles so he guesses he’ll take that as a win.

“Dean, just sleep it off man.” Sam gets up to go put the shoes by the door and Dean almost pitches himself off the bed with how quickly he tries to rise, reaching out for Sam.

It’s sweet, in a way that hasn’t been for a while. Since the whole Lucifer and Ruby debacle Sam’s been seeing less and less of this side of Dean. Less of the big brother who wants to make sure Sam stays close and who even in this state of mind wants to protect him. It brings a smile to Sam’s lips and he turns back to Dean.

“I’m just putting these by the door man, they smell like a corpse.” He offers up and Dean flops back down. Sam figures it’ll only take a few minutes before Dean’s out for the night and he’s already considering heading up to that small doughnut shop in the morning to pick up Dean’s customary hangover breakfast. Sam thinks Dean will appreciate it. It’ll be just like old times.

“Don’t even think of leaving Sam.” Dean’s strangely coherent and a little more hostile sounding than Sam thinks the moment calls for.

“Dude, you’re drunk. Like really drunk. Of course I’m not going anywhere.” Dean just snorts like Sam’s just make the funniest joke possible.

“Yeah, because _that’s_ never happened before.” And Sam feels a sigh want to tear itself out of his throat.

“Dude, I’m not going anywhere. We’ve got to stop the devil remember?”

“ ** _I’m_** going to stop the devil, I just need you to not _fuck it up_. Think you can manage that?” It’s almost like a slap to the face, the sheer vehemence behind the statement and Sam does his best to shake it off and put a small smile on his face.

“And here I thought we were going to do it together, wasn’t that the whole reason why you called me back?”

“I called you back so I can keep an eye on you. So that you don’t screw everything up more than you already have.” It’s a low blow, and a little unfair Sam thinks for a moment but then he just shakes his head.

“Sleep it off Dean. We’ll talk in the morning.” He doesn’t need to repeat himself because Dean is already snoring.

-xXx-

“Morning.” Sam whispers as he enters the motel room. Dean looks like he’s been run over by a wendigo and shoots him a blood shot glance. Sam holds up the paper bags that contain breakfast with a gentle smile. “You look like crap.” He feels inclined to mention as he offers it up. Dean snatches the bag from him without so much as a second look and motions to the bags that he’s already put near the door.

“Whatever. Load up, we’ve got places to be.” Sam hesitates for a moment, a frown crossing his features. It takes less than a minute for Dean to notice it. “What?” He snaps and Sam wonders how to handle Dean without apparently rubbing him the wrong way.

“Um, just thought we’d eat breakfast first. I mean it’s great that you’ve already got a job lined up, but I don’t know if-”

“And that’s why I’m in charge of this rodeo.” Sam feels his irritation rise to the surface.

“What’s that supposed to mean?”

“You and your thoughts and judgments these days aren’t something we should be listening to.” Sam goes to react, to respond to the accusation before he pauses and takes a deep breath. Getting angry here won’t help anything and they’re trying to start over. He’s starting to get the nagging feeling that there’s far too much water under this bridge for them to truly start over, but he’ll hold on to the hope of it like a lifeline if need be.

“Okay, low blow. One that was completely unnecessary dude.” Dean rolls his eyes and digs his hand into the bag and pulls out the sandwich.

“Oh I’m sorry Samantha. Didn’t realize the truth was something we couldn’t talk about.”

“Look Dean, I know I messed up-”

“Understatement of the year.” Dean interjected and Sam plowed on.

“But this isn’t what I signed up for.” Dean finally glances up at him with a surprised look.

“Are you kidding me? Well I didn’t sign up for letting _Lucifer out of hell._ So sorry if I’m a little sore about you going off and breaking the damn world.”

“If I could change it I would.”

“Sure you would. Least you forget I’ve seen the future.” Sam tenses.

“Well maybe if you’d share a little, then we’d be able to come up with a new plan.”

“This is the new plan. I keep an eye on you and keep you out of trouble and try to clean up your mess.”

“My mess?”

“Yeah, I’ve seen what you do if left to your own resources.”

“And why don’t you enlighten me?”

“You say yes.” Sam snaps back, horror crossing his face.

“What? No, that’s not possible.”

“That might have been what I thought at one time. But then I think of your stellar track record and I guess I’m just impressed it hasn’t happened yet.” Sam’s mouth snaps closed and he just stands there as the realization hits him. Dean doesn’t trust him, Dean might never trust him again.

And it’s all his fault.

Sam thinks about saying something, Dean looks like he’s ready for a fight, like reliving even just the memories of whatever Zachariah put him through is like sandpaper on an open wound and Sam just nods, grabbing the bags and disappearing out the door. They spend the rest of the trip in awkward silence that Dean tries to cover up with loud music.

Sam the coward that he is- lets him.

-xXx-

It only got worse from there.

They were broken, that much was obvious. Sam doesn’t even know how he ever thought that if they came back together that they wouldn’t be this way. Their teamwork was non-existent, their down time was filled with awkward silences and barely repressed hostility. Dean was completely closed off to him, in more ways than one, and the constant weight of his disappointed or angry glares that he sent in Sam’s direction when he believed Sam wasn’t paying attention was becoming exhausting. It was almost hilarious sometimes what passed for subtlety in Dean’s mind.

There were times, over the next few weeks- during Sam’s weaker moments- when he’d wonder why they were even in the same hemisphere when a simple pat on the shoulder would have all of Dean’s muscles tensing like it was taking all of his effort not to lash out. Like Dean was dealing with a monster wearing Sam’s skin. It reminded Sam of the voicemail that Dean had left not so long ago and he wondered if Dean still felt all of that and was doing his best to bury it. Sam realized that he was too scared to broach the subject to find out. Yet he kept hearing those words with crystal clarity every time he closed his eyes.

 _You’re a monster Sam_.

The sad thing was, the more Sam thought about it, the more he agreed. So Sam was silent, and completely unresisting to Dean’s untrusting command. He kept to his computer, to his research and to himself. Lucifer hadn’t chosen to reveal himself again since that night, and it was something Sam was grateful for. He didn’t want to risk telling Dean that he was still being visited when Dean had already informed him that since he was an open line to Satan that he couldn’t be trusted with the ‘grand master plan’.

Sam didn’t argue. He was too tired to argue, too bone deep tired. 

He should have known that something was bound to give. He just didn’t expect it to happen so soon, or the way it did.

-xXx-

It’s been like this for a while now. Silent dinners, silent hunts, silent car rides, silent motel rooms. It’s amazing that they can still even _function_ under the weight of all that silence. Sam seems more closed off and like a kicked puppy than Dean has seen since pre-Stanford and every time Dean feels slightly guilty for it- he remembers why they’re even in this position in the first place. Even Dean realizes that this isn’t healthy, this isn’t _fair_ to either of them, but they seem to treat this so called peace like a fragile little thing that could shatter at any moment and leave nothing but destruction in its wake.

Dean wonders sometimes if there is anything to be done to fix it. There used to be love there. An unwavering drive to protect his little brother, to make certain that he’s safe, healthy and some semblance of happy. After all that’s his job, the one entrusted to him; but now with all of this craziness. With Lucifer free and the realization that he’s Michael’s sword and he’s the only one who can clean up Sam’s mess- he’s just done. Those days are the worse. Those are the days he can’t even look at Sam without remembering how he went to hell for him and was betrayed for it.

Lately, he wishes that he _hadn’t_.

Elsewhere, without either of their knowledge- Zachariah smiles.

-xXx-

“Am I just supposed to pretend that I didn’t just hear what I just heard?” Sam asks and Dean shrugs.

“I really don’t care what you do.” He goes to move around Sam when the latter drops his bag on the bed, clearly getting ready to throw one of his bitch fits.

“I can’t do this anymore Dean.” The words come rushing out of Sam’s mouth on an exhale and he runs a hand through his hair. “I thought I could, but I can’t.”

“You’re the one who wanted back in.”

“And you’re the one who called me back.”

“And you’re not the one who’s driving this bus. So either come with me or don’t. I don’t care.” Sam nods like Dean’s just answered a question he never asked.

“I can’t. I’m sorry, but we’re just…we’re not working. I’d hoped that…” Sam cuts himself off and shakes his head. “I’ve done too much and we’ve both been though too much for this to work. Thank you for offering though Dean, it meant more than I can explain.” Sam’s clearly trying to keep this cordial and Dean thinks ‘fuck that’ before he’s throwing his bag down on the other mattress.

“Bullshit. You’re seriously pulling this crap again.”

“I’m not pulling anything, we’re not working Dean.”

“We’re working just fine.” Dean bites off and Sam shakes his head.

“No we’re not and you know it.”

“Just shut up and get in the damn car before I throw you in it.” Sam crosses his arms and Dean knows that he’s digging his feet in.

“No Dean. I’m not going with you.”

“Why not?”

“I’ve already told you why.” Dean’s practically up in Sam’s space, but the younger Winchester doesn’t budge.

“Well that’s not a good enough of a reason. I can’t trust you on your own Sam. I’m not going to chase after you mopping up your messes all because your feelings got hurt. You know what? Suck it up and welcome to the club baby brother.” Sam flinches at that, and Dean thinks ‘good’.

“I’m sorry. I’m sorry that I went with Ruby. I’m sorry that I allowed myself to go down a path that I should have known better. I’m sorry that I didn’t have the strength to stop myself back then.”

“You’ve got a lot more than that to be sorry for Sam.”

“I do, but I’m sorry that I did that to you.” Dean wants to hit something, his fists clench and he practically vibrates with the rage that he’s been keeping in.

“And what? That’s supposed to make up for all of this? I’m sorry? That’s supposed to make up for decades in _hell_? Only to have you turn your back on me?” Sam gives him a sorrowful look. The one he gets right before he does something that Dean doesn’t like.

“I was wondering when that was going to come up again.”

“You want to show you’re sorry? Then shut your fucking mouth and get in the damn car.”

“No.” It actually stops Dean up short. It’s not an angry response, it’s just a softly spoken statement.

“What do you mean no?”

“No Dean. I mean no. I mean no more, I mean a lot of things by it. But mostly I mean no- to all of it.” Dean goes to say something and Sam holds up his hand. “I’m responsible for so much. I’ve done and damaged so much. I have a lot of things that I’m going to have to answer for one day.”

“Damn right.”

“But not that.” Sam’s face seems to harden in his resolve to get out his piece. “Hold whatever else you want over my head Dean. Lucifer, hundreds of deaths, Ruby, leaving back then even leaving now. The only thing I’m demanding is that you hold what I’ve done and what _I’m_ responsible for over my head. I’m an ex-junkie who broke the final seal. Fine. I’ll take it. I have to, I did it. However- I’m not taking credit for that anymore.”

“For what?”

“Hell.” Dean stumbles back like Sam’s punched him. That ungrateful- “Don’t even start Dean. I’ll take responsibility for my actions, but learn to take it for yours. I was dead. I was pushing up daisies and I never once asked you or **ever** gave you an inclination that I wanted you to sell your soul to bring me back. **You** did that. You did it for you. You went to hell because **you** made a deal. Because **you** got something out of it. Whether or not you regret it anymore is notwithstanding. You went to hell because **you** chose to. You broke the first seal on Lucifer’s cage, stop trying to pretend like all of this is on my head and mine alone.” Dean’s just standing there with a pained disbelieving look on his face. Sam slowly grabs his duffle and walks past him towards the door. “For what it’s worth, I’m sorry you had to go through that. I’m sorry I couldn’t save you, and I’m sorry that it’s come to this. I’ll find my own way.”

A tear falls down Dean’s face as the door closes and Sam’s heart breaks.


End file.
